Joakim sat down in the simple wooden throne, taking his sword and leaning it against the throne. He leaned back and enjoyed the warmth of the fire before another servant approached him - again. Gavin had really ought to handle these things alone, rather than send a message every time he did something. He had barely gotten a nights rest with all the troubles and such going on, and by now many lords were freshly awoken from their nights rest so there was no chance to get some shut eye. Some sat in the hall conversing with others, sitting on the simple wooden benches. Wealth wasn't a thing prominent in the North. Others might already be preparing to leave, mostly the men from the North that had a long ride ahead of them. They would be returning as soon as they could, and hopefully with an army of bannermen.
Joakim wanted to wave the servant away, wishing some time to himself to reconsider the position they were in, and to look after his mother for a moment. She seemed to be caving in more and more, and hadn't stayed for the ceremonies yesterday. Her servants, Arryn Thorne and Rosemary Yewstring, had been taking care of her so far but Joakim had the idea it would only take time before his mother caved completely and he would be forced to keep her locked in her room with an embroidery set. It was a fate many widows had seen before, and he felt sorry that it had to be his mother too.
Before he could wave the servant away he was already closeby and speaking to Joakim. He notified him of approaching people, who appeared to be lord Gregar Weade, as well as an unknown woman and lady Amber Rossric of the Forklands. Although Joakim knew her only by seeing her at the tourneys that he took part in, he knew she was duchess and commanded a decent amount of respect. More so, she was a good friend of Gregar. Joakim nodded and attempted to hide his satisfaction, but failed at that miserably when he walked towards the door to greet them. Closing the distance, the door opened and Gregar stepped through with that characteristical grin of his. Joakims walk turned into a run as he clashed with Gregar in a firm hug. “Brother!” he let out, nearly ramming Gregar to the ground as they connected. All Gregar did was put his hand on Joakims head and smile. He looked around the room, to see all the noblemen that had now stood up. Some smiled at him, others bowed their heads and a single lord even dropped on one knee. It was certain that Gregar had a far better standing amongst the nobles than Joakim.
After a long hug, Joakim released him and then noticed Brier behind him too. He was far too happy to see her to even think of why she was here. It was uncommon for Brier to make the long journey to the Whitelands, especially because she had a busy live in the Ironhills. Her skills went largely unknown to Joakim, who knew merely that she had some idea what plants were edible and which were not, but besides that he knew little of her. They never got to spend time together before, because by the time he was mature enough to realise what was what in the world of politics and traits, she was already married off. All the memories he had of her were childhood ones, where she would watch him and teach him. He smiled at her and approached her after, leaving Gregar to tend to the noblemen. As he approached her too, he would give her a hug. “Good to see you Brier, are you staying for long?” His dog, Bravery, would sit next to them and pant heavily. He'd twist his head slightly at Brier in a comedic way. Granted, the dog was brave.. but not very smart.
Gregar turned to the nobles and gave them all his attention. “Good of you to be here still.” His eyes gazed over the visages of the nobles, as he walked to his throne and touched it's cold wood. He'd then turn around and face the lord who was on one knee. “Rise, please, ser Redarde, there are more pressing matters than formalities.” The lord rose slowly, still bowing his head. Other nobles lined up with him, to make ready for what Gregar was about to say. The lords that had already left would have to give their oaths by contract, these men could do it in person. “Do you all swear allegiance to me, Gregar Weade, the Oakheart of the North, true heir to the title of duke of the Whitelands, and rightful owner of the Wintershouse? Do you swear to uphold my name, my honor and my faith in front of those who would oppose us? Do you swear your banners to me, to aid me when I call on you?” The lords drew their swords and set the tips down into the stone, before kneeling and bowing their heads. In unison they replied, 'I do'.
Gregar looked around with a satisfied look. “Good. Because we have a war to fight. It will be weeks before Harrighfields army gets to the Whitelands, but our northern armies must travel even longer. We will be outnumbered for the first weeks, months even. But we have a good position, namely that we are free to bargain with others, where as lord Perris Harrighfield has suffered a diplomatic blow when he struck against the king! We still have allies in the realm of the King, although it may seem like it is not so.” The lords nodded, some said a quick word such as 'He's right' or 'I can send a letter to my niece in the Falkhalls'. It seemed Gregars arrival was timely, and he had lifted the spirits and given them hope, or atleast commanded such respect that none of them would speak against him. “And after the war is over, we have another matter to attend to. Lady Amber Rossric has been de-throned by pretenders and men of the cloak and dagger. Our families are tied together ever since the birth of Borhilon, and they hopefully will continue to be tied after all of us lie in the ground, feasting with Gods' children. As such we have a duty to help her gain back what is hers. There may be yet nobles in the Forklands that support her cause. We must search them out and ask them to aid us, so we may aid them in return by returning their duchess.” The lords nodded, some looked as though they weren't prepared to fight another womans' war, but if the duke commanded it so it was to be done.
“Now that we've done all that.. servants! BRING US WINE!” The crowd cheered and even the servants looked happy, because when there was a feast, they were usually invited to join. Some men left to go fetch their friends and comrades, who would by now be awake after a long night of drinking, and visiting women of satin covers. As the servants would go to fetch wine and food, no doubt upsetting the cooks even more than they already were, Joakim approached the throne again and leaned towards his ear, where he would tell them of the foreign warlord that had taken up residence on invitations of Joakim. Gregar would nod and make sure to invite him later on. Joakim retreated to sit with Brier and Amber at a table of.. higher nobility, where people would swap seats every now and then to sit close to these influential people, for small talk and hopefully for them to get favors from them. As Gregar sat there, he noticed a peculiar person roaming the backside of the hall, a knight dressed in a suit of black. An uncommon sight in the Whitelands, but a sight more common in the South. Whenever there was a war, it seemed the knights of Black crawled from under their rocks to participate. He stood up and pointed at the knight. “Knight of the Black! Come closer and undo your helmet!” An eerie quiet would overcome the hall as many would turn to face the black knight. “.. Tell us of your name and your birthplace, knight. Black knights are a sight uncommon here, so we must take our chances to talk to them.. you lot are interesting.”
Gidja was just switched out with the castle guard who guarded the gate, another more relaxed position were it not for the blizzard that was picking up pace. Many peasants and soldiers had retreated inside, but she had no such chance to do so. She was about to lean against the wall when a man approached, coming from the snow and approaching her, almost in a straight line. “Hail stranger.” she said as he approached and started talking to her. He even called her fair lady. She rolled her eyes at him and replied with a quick tongue. “Flattering me won't get you inside. I see you have a weapon, and while that is not forbidden, I should warn you that if you try anything funny - we have men inside from all the lords of the realm, and they are veterans of many wars. You look like you've never seen a trickle of blood run from your blade, so be careful who you offend..” She would nod towards the gate urging him to hurry inside. “And don't bother the ladies of pleasure lest you have coin. Many of them are close friends of mine, and I'd hate to skewer you on my spear. Now go, you might be able to get some food at Gregar Weades' hall.”
Arryn rushed to the windowsill to grab a pillow for lady Catryn, and noticed the wind and snow was picking up. She leaned over and grabbed the wooden boards that could cover the window, before pulling them in and closing off the window. The room suddenly turned very dark, and she let her eyes adjust to that for a second before rushing back to lady Catryn, who was laying in bed in silence. Catryns quiet, soft but singing voice broke the silence. “Lady Catryn.. can you raise your head so I can place down the pillow, my lady?” Lady Catryn complied, either out of sheer sadness, or because she couldn't be bothered with this.. child. Arryn promptly placed the pillow down before rushing to the other side of the room again, where she would take a candle and take it outside. Starting a fire was always a hassle, so she generally just used the burning torch on the outside of the room, hanging from a wall.
As she headed back inside she noticed that the other handmaiden, Rosemary, was coming back from an errant. As such she left the door open for her and went inside. She placed the candle near lady Catryn on a table, and sat down close to the table waiting for lady Catryn to ask for something. As Rosemary entered she seemed.. happy. It was strange in such a turbulent time to be happy, so she continued looking at Rosemary waiting for her to tell what was so good. 'Lady Catryn, your son and daughter have returned. Gregar and Brier are both here, as is Amber Rossric.' This was news that would normally make a mother happy, but she didn't reply, only stare at the wall in silence. She had cried all her tears yet, and so she couldn't cry anymore. The two handmaidens stayed in silence for a while before lady Catryn ushered her first words in days. 'Leave me.' she said, softly and quiet, whispering almost. Her voice had changed, and while it was beautiful before, her voice now sounded old and devoid of any emotions.
The two left the room and slowly walked together to the halls. Before Arryn could say anything, Rosemary was already talking like a madman. 'Oh, Arryn, Gregar is so handsome.. He got scarred in battle, but he's still pretty. It just makes him look more like a man than before! Maybe he'll ask me to dance..' Arryn shook her head. She liked Gregar, but more like a friend. Besides, Arryn was much too young to even be thinking of stuff like this. Rosemary on the other hand was already 18, and would be sent away for marriage soon. Being lowborn, she'd probably be married off to some 3rd born son, someone like Joakim. That was not neccesarily bad, it was definetely a step up from being a handmaiden, but.. it wasn't like she'd be married to a king, or a lord. It was stupid to think of Gregar, she'd never get him. Arryn couldn't help but wonder who she'd be married to.. she'd much rather stay in the Wintershouse. But she didn't tell Rosemary that, preferring to keep quiet. She just smiled and went along with Rosemary's rambling.